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dev1lm4n · 9 months

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lesson one: sensitive

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: under several notable circumstances, mr. miller finally decided that he'd be the best teacher for your first debut into sexual activities. even when all of it is to prepare you for your successful date.

word count: 5.4k (i know.. i went a little crazy on this lol)

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, fingering, he's kinda mean, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: i had so much fun writing this! tbh this one is super filthy compared to the other one so.. forgive me 🤲 COMMENT n REBLOG if u liked it

“I could take you home if you’d like. Pretty girls like you shouldn’t roam the street alone.”

Simon, more commonly referred to as Robotic Class Guy or French Fries, was surprisingly not half as bad as you thought he would be. He had all the height of a man but none of the bulk. From behind he could be easily spotted as someone in their late teens to early thirties, mostly blaming his horrid graphic tee and skinny jeans combo, but when he turned that face was all boy. His caramel hair flopped over his eyes in the way no office worker could get away with and on his wrist were bracelets in woven leather.

At first, you accepted his awkward invite out of spite.

Just to rid yourself of a certain plague festering upon your head, feasting on your brain cells so that you’d think of nothing but Mr. Miller in all his glory. Him with his tight worn-out jeans, spread open enough that you could see a naughty peak of his bulge, while he watched the soccer game. Him with his shirt off, bathing in the summer-induced moisture, while he mowed the front lawn and edged the curb. Him with his thumb parting your lips, looking at you like he’s about to consume you alive, but of course he didn’t.

At least now that Simon came around, you’d have a new port to anchor your boat on.

“No, thanks, I’m alright. My..”

Who was Mr. Miller to you again?

Your.. father? Absolutely not. Even if he’s taken you in as a part of the Miller family, just like how he used to say, you would feel like it’d be morbidly repulsive to deduce him to that particular role. For fuckssake, you stick a finger up your cunt every single week to the thought of him fucking you like one of his girls.

Then would a family friend be better of a word? Or should you just say that he’s a guardian of yours? But that’d be confusing, wouldn’t it? You glanced at your watch, counting the hour and minute hand as if it’d give you a revelation on how to answer Simon’s pop quiz.

“Someone promised to pick me up.”

That sure did sound ominous.

With a promise to leave a message to his cell once you’ve returned home safely, you stepped out of the quaint local restaurant. It was warm outside and you weren’t particularly fond of that. Heat has always been your mortal enemy; something about the musty scent of middle school boys’ armpits after PE class mixed in with the pungent perfumes they use to try and hide it has left you permanently traumatized. Your once-cheery mood had long evaporated along with any semblance of coolness. You tugged at the hem of your sundress, fanning yourself with your hand in a futile attempt to find relief from the stifling heat. This is hell!

Where was Mr. Miller?

Mr. Miller must've read your mind, because a honk quickly resonated. He was on the very corner of the parking lot; his large pickup truck looked hilariously out of place when compared to the array of city cars parked by his side. You swore you could see him grin from behind the shaded tint of his window, perhaps entertained at your almost too obvious annoyance. The thought made your heart jump and maybe even did a front-flip. God, you’re helpless!

As you beelined down the sidewalk and on to him, the heat seemed to intensify with every step. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, causing your hair to stick in weird shapes. You just hope that his truck’s AC works.

“Hi.. Hi, Mr. Miller.”

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it?”

The nickname never ceased to exude so much power. ‘Sweetheart’ made you feel as if a tail had grown out right from the hilt of your ass and you had no other choice than to swish it around excitedly. You propped up one leg on the washed-off gray carpet, before swinging yourself into the vehicle in one go. The door closed behind with a loud thud. As you leaned back, you cringed at the feeling of your sweat-soaked dress clinging onto your skin. You felt like some marinated beef, sticky and in need of a quick shower.

“It was alright,” you hummed.

“Alright? Now that made me all the more curious,” he grinned, nudging your side with the edge of his elbow. “Com’on now. Tell me all about it, will ya?”

“Mr. Miller, are you trying to embarrass me?”

Mr. Miller’s soothing brown eyes that were stuck on the glittering street lights came flickering over to you, as if he’s actually afraid that perhaps he’s made you uncomfortable. His shoulders squared and his jaw slackened for just a split second as he tried to grasp for any nuance you’ve just given. You then smiled at him, relieving him of his worries.

It’s a little jarring to say that you think he’s quite cute. In the same way people find puppies cute, or those strawberry-shaped trinkets. He’s a little socially-awkward in his own way. Embarrassed to ask the waitress to bring his plate back, but would be confident bullying his cock into a tight cunt. Would definitely get kooky when asked to join a parents-teacher conference, but would whisper filthy things on the internet.

“I ain’t tryna make you embarrassed,” he huffed out. “I just wanna know you’re safe.”

How nice. If only he knew why you went on dates in the first place.

“He’s alright, Mr. Miller. Kind, decently groomed, respectful,” you replied, flicking through your Twitter feed mindlessly. “Better than most college guys.”

“Did he pick you up?”

Your forehead scrunched up. “I ordered a cab.”

“Did he at least get the door for you?”

“It’s not exactly the 1900’s, is it?” you quipped back at him.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for your answer.

“If you’re that curious, then no.”

“Well then, did he pay for dinner?”

“No, well.. I did offer for us to split it,” you reasoned.

“Well, sweetie, he’s not too respectful. Is he?”

“Yeah.. but he’s cute.”

He’s cute and you’re desperate to get over Mr. Miller. Terribly so. At first, the entire situation with having your pornstar crush be the head of your host family was hilarious, it’s a joke written by itself. But then the desires went through the roof in a matter of weeks and you’re sure that you’d actually jump him one of these days. He’s attached to the back of your mind like some ghostly presence. Everything he said and done carved at your brittle wall of determination and one day it’s all going to fall apart like broken glass. You needed to stop it from happening.

There was a minute or so where he didn’t have anything to say. He hadn’t let go of the handbrakes either, though he appeared to be squeezing the leather cover of the steering wheel tighter.

“Cute ain’t enough for a man, sweetheart.”

Mr. Miller finally pushed down the handbrakes and released the pickup truck from the small parking lot. His large hands skillfully turned the wheels to fit through the tiny gaps, guiding the vehicle towards the open road. You shut your eyes for a good minute, then you let out a weighted sigh. Almost as if you’re a deflated balloon.

The drive was going to be a long one, considering the restaurant you’re on was in the heart of the town and Mr. Miller’s humble abode was more towards the outskirts. Would he continue preaching about the importance of Southern manners and being a gentleman? Because if he did, perhaps you’d just shut him up with a kiss.

“I’m just a little nervous,” you broke the silence.

“Because of the boy?”

“Sorta, yeah. It’s my first time..”

You clicked your phone shut, stuffing it on the cup holder next to the car stick. The entire conversation was making you nauseous. You had to press on the button on your left to slide down the windows in order to take in fresh air. Through the open window, a gentle breeze tousled the top of your hair, carrying with it the familiar scent of Summer in Austin. As he drove closer into the outskirts of town, the lights gradually faded behind into a sea of twinkling stars.

“First time in what?”

“In all this,” your hand motioned the idea abstractly.

“You’ve never dated?”

An enthusiastic grin snaked its way to his lips.

“I have! But it’s not- it’s not real. It’s middle school romance. We meet each other in the hallways, hold hands and giggle about it, then go on pizza dates,” you tried to explain. “I’ve never dated properly.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you tousled your hair in frustration. “Just because, Mr. Miller. I’m not sure either. Maybe I’m just comfortable in my own little bubble?”

“Then this boy.. What’s his name again?”

“Simon.”

“Right, Simon. Are you thinking of dating Simon properly?”

“Maybe,” you muttered.

“Maybe I could teach you,” he paused. “Well, that is if you’d like this old man to teach you old tricks.”

Your hands tightly clutched the edge of your seat. A rise of bile disturbed your throat's peace as a knot of anxiety started to form in your stomach. This is what you’re working towards.

You didn’t want to admit it, because admitting means legitimizing what you had in mind, but you were hoping for him to offer you help in any way that he felt was right. Despite your.. odd relationship with him, he was your guardian and you’ve seen the way he dealt with all Sarah’s problems with soft-spoken words and fair actions. You trusted him to help you delve into this new world of adult romance, but it’s not like you’re expecting for him to agree on it. Shit, shit, shit! You couldn’t think straight.

“Com’on then. Tell me what you’re so nervous of.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” you groaned.

“I’m not!”

“You are,” you persisted.

“Fine. I promise not to laugh.”

You took a deep breath. The single word sticky on the end of your tongue.

“Sex.”

The pickup truck swerved.

To your surprise, instead of howling and laughing at your lack of experience, he was quiet. Awfully so to the point where you think you’d rather have him laugh at your patheticness instead of giving you the cold shoulder. You rolled the window back up, giving him your full attention as you waited for him to do something. He looked tense; the grip he had on the steering wheel was so tight you could see the leather developing crescent-shaped marks. What was he thinking of?

“Do I.. do I have to give you the talk?”

“God, no! Mr. Miller, I’m not clueless,” you looked horrified that he even considered giving you the birds and the bees talk. “I am, but I know what happens.”

The hours you’ve spent analyzing each and every one of his videos surely made an impact on how you view sex. Perhaps not the most accurate one, since you were merely looking through a 720p video and not being present in the scene, but you knew how sex goes. How it starts, what arousal looks like, what appears to feel good and what doesn’t, and how good an orgasm looks like when induced by another person. Mr. Miller might not be aware of how much he’s taught you. Not directly, but in a cause-and-action kind of way.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he hummed.

“Making a mistake,” you muttered dejectedly. “Of it not feeling good.”

A beat passed.

“Do you..” he struggled to speak properly. “Do you want me to teach you?”

What were you thinking! It was one thing to harbor intense, disgustingly filthy feelings towards a man who perceived you as an addition to his family, but it was another thing to act on it desperately. Your mind reeled back towards the exact moment when you agreed on his proposition. How you agreed on it instantly as if it wasn’t even a question, how you nodded your head miserably as if you were afraid that you’d miss this one chance, how you buckled your knees at the thought.

God, how pathetic can you be! You didn’t remember much after such a cathartic turn of events. All you managed to compile in that pretty little head of yours was that he took a different interchange, then slipped onto a highway towards.. whatever this place was.

It was on the outskirts of town. Opposite to where he lived. Big trees grew tall and heavy as they provided a mystique veil for the trailer house. You remembered the shade of peeling paint covering the outside, sky blue. The lanterns provided ample lighting for it to be spotted from a distance, but not enough to attract rowdy attention. Mr. Miller told you to come inside first while he secured his pickup truck properly. He mentioned a thing or two about racoons or squirrels, but you were too high off adrenaline to even notice. Being in the property, you instantly knew where you were.

This was his lair.

Where he shoots his videos, where he invites all his pretty co-stars to make them moan and whimper about how good his cock felt and how deep it went, where he edits those striking millennial-core thumbnails. Your throat grew dry and you began to think if it’s time to bail. He’d understand, wouldn’t he? Mr. Miller would just take you home and forget about it. Then, by next summer, you’d be out of his hair and he’d never even think about it.

A creak sounded from the front door. You jumped.

“Hi, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded. Your entire body went cold, especially the tips of your fingers and toes as you saw him come close. One step at a time. Almost as if he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t scare you too much. Mr. Miller looked awfully big up close. You never seemed to notice this entirely when you see him around the house, but when he’s confined in this miniscule trailer house, he looked massive. His presence towered over every last bit of your confidence. It’s surely crumpling - your confidence - slowly dissipating into thin when he was flushed against your chest.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller.”

He pulled a foldable chair from one of the open compartments, before taking a seat on it. He spread his legs, as always, and had this look in his eyes.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he paused, before resuming. “You could tell me you don’t feel like doin’ this anymore and I could take you home. Won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t wanna.”

“I.. I want to do this, Mr. Miller.”

“Are you sure? There ain’t no pressure in this. I’m simply here to help you, sweetheart, so if you feel like-”

“I get it, okay, I get it. I trust you. A lot. And I know you’d be the best person to teach me.”

What were you even saying? This was straight out of your wildest wet dreams and perhaps that’s why you’re so adamant about it. You watched silently as he contemplated his choices. Mr. Miller scratched his beard for a short while, his gaze focused beyond you and you could almost watch in real-time how his morals and values crumbled onto the creaky floorboards. He stood up from his small chair and headed right towards where you were standing idly. Is this what May felt like in those videos?

“Alright, sweetheart. I ain’t a vocal man so this is gonna be challenging even for me,” he chuckled gruffly. “Every man has their way of settlin’ with their ladies, but I like ‘em stripped off their clothing first. So will you be a pretty thing and do that for me?”

For a second, you were as still as a rock. Entirely not used to having the person who initiated many if not all of your orgasms giving you these orders in real life. He’s right there in front of you, flesh and bones, telling you to strip off your clothing. It felt like a fever dream. You must’ve had a weird look on your face, because a grin started to form on those chapped lips of his.

Conscious of the mistake, you quickly reacted. Almost skittishly in a way as you pulled on the zipper that’s located on your right ribs. Your fingers fumbled with one another, as if it’s been braided into one, but you managed to loosen it after a few attempts. You slipped your right arm under the spaghetti straps, before you slipped the other one. The only thing holding your modesty together was your one arm that’s holding onto the support-less front flap of your sundress.

“Com’on now. It’s just me. You can act shy and adorable around Simon, but not this old man,” he teased.

You nodded, hesitantly letting your arms fall to the side. The terribly warm weather encouraged you not to wear a bra. Although you wondered if 3 PM you knew that you’re going to be engaging in some promiscuous agenda this evening. You looked up into his eyes for some kind of guidance, in which he responded with a curt nod, before you tugged on the dress so that it’d slide onto the floor.

Now the only piece of modesty you’re wearing is your plain white panties. Your breasts were entirely exposed, cold nipples firming up as it reacted to the change of temperature. This is embarrassing! Mr. Miller was being incredibly methodical in the ways in which he approached the situation, lacking sloppy mouthy kisses and feverish touches.

“Smart girl,” he complimented, almost on instinct. “Let’s get on the bed, yeah?”

You moved adjacent to him. Mr. Miller was gentle when he patted the spot next to him, allowing you to settle down properly while he fixed a pillow behind your back. To think that you’re positioned on the same bed where you’ve witnessed him please an array of girls made you feel some sort of way. A hitch in your heart, a twitch in your hole. You’ve never witnessed him this gentle. He’s always fond of establishing the power he held on the dynamic he’s presented, always telling girls what to do in quick succession and calling them humiliating names if they fail to do as told. With you, he was sweet and rather funny.

“In my experience, one of the things girls like the most is to be withdrawn from control,” he spoke up into the thick air. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cruised along your beaded nipples, or the way it watched you with feral precision. “Of course, it depends on the person. But you. I think you’re a sensitive one, are you?”

You nodded obediently.

“Cross your arms behind your back,” he ordered and watched closely as you followed suit. “Lean back onto the pillow.”

You copied his order. Only then did your finicky brain finally compute that you’re limited off your movements now. With your body weight acting like paper weight for your arms, it’d be impossible for you to react in quick time.

“Good girl.”

His mindless comment made you tighten your thighs together.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” he whispered gently. You could watch how he’s slowly approaching you with much caution. His arms caged you in as it dug into the tangled sheets next to you. He’s testing the currents, making sure you’re fully consenting to the experience before he makes any mistake that might ruin your perception of sex. “Ask your little friend to touch you slowly. None of that frisky aimless touching. If he pulled on your nipples and called it a day, I’d leave his ass.”

This little routine he had, the one Wicked Fantasies had, was memorized into your head and to watch it take place right in front of you made you ecstatic. He caressed the side of your face. Gently even with those big, large fingers of his, he managed to take up a good portion of your cheek. Mr. Miller then made his way to your lips. He swiped it once over your upper lip, then another time over your thicker bottom lip. You’d anticipate for him to stick his thumb in deep enough so that he could see your uvula properly, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled on pressing down your tongue as if to pin it against the lower floor of your mouth. A good amount of saliva was collected that when he pulled away, a lewd string remained intact.

“Do you know why I like pinning a girl’s tongue down?” he queried to increase comfort in a way.

“No,” you whispered breathlessly. “Why?”

“It makes ‘em docile,” he muttered. “Encourages submission and I like a pretty girl who listens.”

Mr. Miller’s fingers dragged through the curves and texture of your warm skin, leaving goosebumps on his wake, before he finally reached your two perky nubs. Each one hardened before he could give them the treatment they both deserved, which in a way broke his routine, but instead of being irritated, he appeared to be pleased.

Girls in his videos weren’t as sensitive as you. They didn’t get riled up just by a little touching and teasing. Seeing you like this was a refreshing touch. One that made the wrinkles on his forehead ripple as his eyebrows quirked. He circled his calloused finger around where the pigmentation started. Once, twice. Right until he was merciful enough to press against the apex of your nipples.

You squirmed.

“So sensitive, are you?” he cooed. “Tell Simon to play with your sensitive little nipples, hm? You look like you could cum just by this.”

“O-oh please!”

“Please?”

You couldn’t respond. Not when he’s rolling the most sensitive part of your nipples between the pads of his thumb and the side of his pointer finger. Touching your breasts with your own nimble hands felt nothing like what he’s doing right now. You instinctually grinded your leaking pussy down onto the bed, almost like an animal in heat.

“Poor thing couldn’t even tell me what she wants. What would Simon think, hm? A girl with no self control like you,” he hummed. Mr. Miller quickly held onto your thighs so that you’d stop rocking onto the bed and getting off from pleasure he’s not offering. Your eyes met his, searching for help, but the sweet and respectful Mr. Miller wasn’t there anymore. “Alright now, sweetheart. You have ta make sure that you’re thoroughly aroused before thinkin’ of even touchin’ this place.”

“You’re new at this,” he hummed. His fingers slipped off the hold he had on your nipples before it slid down your stomach and settled precisely above your clothed clitoris. “It’s gonna hurt bad if you’re not properly lubricated. Sex is supposed to be fun, not painful so if some guy tells you that it’s supposed to hurt, don’t listen to his dumb shit.”

Mr. Miller was incredibly informative if you put aside the fact that he’s touching you in all the right places that it’s making you go dumb. He spent the time explaining why an action must be provided and how to perform it, when you know for a fact that this is not what he’s used to doing. Wicked Fantasies was known to be straight with words, using minimal sentences to provide his co-stars with just the right amount of information. You could tell he’s holding back the urge to be meaner, to act the way he likes, just for you to be more comfortable.

“Let’s take a look, shall we? You think I did a good job, darlin’?”

It’s dark out. There’s only one source of light that’s present in the room. A small bedside lamp in the shape of an elephant, Sarah’s favorite animal that’s grown to be yours as well. This session with him felt intimate; you’d expect for him to bring out the bright light panels and reflectors just like in those videos you watched of him, but instead, he mostly depended on the moonlight rays.

You were acutely aware of how those dark eyes of his mirrored your own. The way he studied you was unlike any other, not with an invasive intent, but rather with heed. You watched as he hooked his fingers on each side of your panties. Slowly dragging it down, only to stop to wait for you to ease your thighs upwards.

“Look at you,” he chuckled. “I’m right about you bein’ sensitive. Don’t think we need any lube when your pussy looks like this.”

By instinct, you brought your thighs together, shy that he’s observing you with such vulgar intensity. He hummed out a tone of disapproval and quickly placed his arms on both of your knees, prying the two apart as if he’s opening a stubborn can of bolognese. You bit your bottom lip, stifling the noise of embarrassment.

Anxiety bubbled up inside of you. You wondered if you looked okay down there - no other men had seen it besides him! - or if there was something strange that caused him to halt. There was a lewd string of sticky arousal pooling on the center of your panties. You silently watched as it stretched and broke as Mr. Miller pulled the thin fabric away.

“You’re soaked, sweetie,” he teased.

“Mr. Miller, that’s- that’s embarrassing..”

“You like to touch yourself, don’t you?”

Your eyes flickered towards his direction in fear. Has he discovered your incurable obsession for him and his erotic videos? That couldn’t be, could it? There’s no scientific correlation between being extremely aroused with masturbation as far as you’re aware, but the confidence he exude made you doubt yourself. Mr. Miller moved in a painfully slow tempo, taking his time to caress your inner thighs and stomach before even considering touching you where it ached. His calloused fingers felt different against your skin. It left a fiery trail in its wake.

“No, I don’t,” you lied with a breathless squeak.

“It’s okay if you like to touch yourself, y’know,” he whispered as if taunting you. “Girls who like to touch themselves understand themselves better.”

Mr. Miller finally touched you properly. His pointer finger probed against your clitoris, touching in the lightest feathery manner possible that you couldn’t have felt it if you weren’t concentrating. Your hips followed the brief source of pleasure, only to be disappointed when you notice that he wasn’t there. He pulled his finger close to his mouth and made a big show out of it. The way your arousal glistened under the pale moon rays, Mr. Miller teased you with his expressions and mannerism. He dipped the stained finger in his lips to have a good taste while keeping eye contact.

“Please touch me.”

“What was that, sweetheart?” he hummed.

“Please touch me again. It feels go-”

You were cut off immediately when he lazily drew a perfect circle on top of your hooded clit.

“Fuck, please, please, sir.”

Ah, he liked that. He liked the new name you’ve granted him. Mr. Miller was kind enough to resume what he was doing. His finger descended down onto your throbbing hole to gather a good amount of slick before he brought it up to aid his ventures.

“The best way to feel good is controlled pleasure. It feels better to be denied than to receive boring continual pleasure, so..” he paused his movement all together. “I’m gonna teach you a little game.”

“A little game..” you sounded like you’re about to cry from his sudden withdrawal.

“Count to ten, properly. Then I’ll reward you with more. If you fail, then we gotta start from the very beginning,” he explained. His warm breath fanning over your sensitive clit. “You think you can do that, pretty girl?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll start now.”

“One, two..”

You felt how he made his laps around your nub. It was much more intense than the pleasures you’ve initiated before. Compared to rutting against a pillow, grinding against a bedpost, or laying under the tub’s running water, this felt like an entire new experience. You fought to keep still, but it’s gradually getting harder when his finger starts prodding against your tight little hole.

“Three, four. Please, Mr. Miller. Oh god,” you whimpered by accident. He didn’t like that one bit by the look he gave you. There weren’t rules and promises to this, no dynamic the two of you have agreed on, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of his disapproval. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir.”

“From the start,” he ordered.

“One, two, three..”

You could barely remember the numbers in your head despite encountering them almost every day of the week. You’re a smart girl, knows your ways around things, but being touched by Mr. Miller makes you go all dumb.

“Four, five, six..”

Your thighs began to twitch and spasm. You catched the way he pulled back the hood to your clit to get a more direct touch. It was working wonders as the sensation now is a lot more electrifying. Arousal dribbled down your twitching hole and onto the crack of your rear, wetting the sheets beneath you with the sticky clear substance.

“Seven, eight, n- nine!”

You jutted your hips out when his fingers brushed over your clit once more, the sensitive bundle of nerves extra aware of his presence, and he managed to hold you back once more. He’s forgiving. You knew he’d punish his co-stars if they couldn’t stay still like you, but he let this one slide. He continued rubbing slow, tight circles only to alter into an eight shape.

“Ten.”

The ultimatum. It has arrived, your key to heaven.

“Smart girl,” he cooed, never actually stopping. “This little hole of yours looks neglected, hm?”

“Yes, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Touch your clit slowly like I taught you,” he ordered. “You can do that can you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, distraught and ruined. With his sweet permission, you pulled one arm out from your back and rested it right above your clit. Slow and steady. Just like how he ordered. Mr. Miller on the other hand was slicking up his pointer finger with his tongue. Fuck, that looks so god damn hot.

He had pressed his sole finger deep into your warmth with no hesitation whatsoever. The combination of his calloused finger against your walls and the golden freckles inside his narrowed irises had you reaching out for his forearm. Your nails came in contact with his skin as you dug upon it, crescent shapes formed in pinkish shades atop his skin. You had to sit up as the only way you’re getting through this is by leaning on his sturdy arm.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Filthy girls like you love to get their holes filled?”

What you didn’t expect was having him press a second finger in. His one finger was thicker than what you’re used to, but two fingers? That makes you an overachiever for sure. You looked up to meet his eyes frantically. You knew he wouldn’t be kind enough to withdraw the action when his mind is already set on it, but it was worth the try. He cocked his head arrogantly as he pursued his plans. Mr. Miller’s middle finger was a tight fit. Barely able to slip past the ring of muscles. Though when he did manage to get himself in, a loud moan escaped your lips.

“Mr. Miller. I can’t- I’ve never- never taken two fingers!”

“I know you can do it, sweetheart,” his free hand went over to run over your sweaty hair, admiring every inch of you. “You wanna please that boy, don’t you? Little Simon?”

He was skillful with his fingers, perhaps from his job requirements. Although it’s still incredible how he managed to have you squirming, yelling how you’re about to cum in a matter of seconds. All he did was switch between pumping the two in you, creating the filthiest sounds, and reaching upwards to hit that certain spot of yours. You rubbed your clit with much concentration as you followed after his thrusts.

“Mr- oh.. Mr. Miller! I’m gonna cum, sir.”

“You’re gonna do that for me?” he grinned, pushing his fingers into you as deep as they could go. He maintained a steady pace, emphasizing pressure on that spongy spot up top that you’ve never managed to reach with your stubby fingers. “Pretty girl gonna cum from my fingers?”

“Yes, yes.. sir. Please.”

“Cum for me, darlin’” he whispered. “Show me how good you can be.”

Oh god, you're in a lot of trouble.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tw age gap

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eddiesghxst · 4 months

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PRICE OF FAME (PART 11/12)

gasp she's finally here !!!

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: the last day of tour has arrived and you're pushed to make a difficult choice

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, smoking, sexual themes, mentions of oral, angst, and more glimpses of eddie being boyfriend coded <3

word count: 6k

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song inspo for this chappy, thx to my stink @mmunson86 ily hehe:

Sunday mornings are meant for being lazy.

You wake up, you toss around in bed for a bit, maybe turn on the TV, and order food if you’re at a nice hotel like you are now— which had been your plan. You had wanted to try the strawberry crepes here for ages, and you planned to finally order it to start the last day of your short-lived tour on the right foot— but apparently, someone doesn’t believe in the mainstream concept of Sunday morning.

It’s seven in the morning when you get a knock on your door. You want to ignore it— and you have every intention to do so— except the person at the door is incessant and apparently doesn’t get the hint of silence.

It makes sense, though, when you open the door to see who is banging on your door like a madman. Eddie, of course.

“Housekeeping!”

He’s got a cute, wide smile and damp curls that make your chest flutter even though you still have one foot in a dream. Although, you think the dream might be the man standing before you, clad in jeans and a graphic tee, and beaming at you.

“Eddie, it’s seven in the morning.” You grumble.

Eddie’s smile widens, “I know. Perfect time for a walk in the park.” He says before pushing past you and walking into your room. Your eyebrows furrow as you watch him walk over to your window and open the blinds. You rapidly blink at the sunlight, “I– what? A walk?”

Eddie turns to you, smiling still as he nods, “Yes. Down at Central Park. They’ve always got cute dogs down there, and I know a place with pancakes to die for.”

You’re too tired to even wrap your mind around how cute of an image Eddie with dogs would be, “Woah… woah, woah, wait— Eddie, I— I would love to,” you blink hard, “But I’m still half asleep, and I only got to bed like four hours ago, so I think I’d pass out on a walk right now.” You softly laugh.

You feel a twinge of guilt stir in your gut, so you step forward to Eddie, reaching out to rest a hand on his bicep and gently squeeze, “Why don’t we order coffee up and sit on the balcony until my mind warms up a bit?” You offer.

Which, now that you think of it, was a perfect idea because there’s a cool breeze this morning that gives you an excuse to press up against Eddie’s side and curl into the heat of him as you sip on warm coffee and watch Eddie burn through cigarettes. Eddie was bold enough to drag your legs to rest across his lap, and you decide to blame your compliance on lack of sleep rather than desire.

“Are you nervous for tonight?” You wonder aloud, watching as the morning sun cracks through his fluttering eyelashes. Eddie’s lips pull into a smile, “No.” He leans into you, “Are you?”

You snort, pressing your fingers into the warm ceramic mug, “Why would I be nervous?”

Eddie shrugs, “Maybe I’ve got a surprise up my sleeve or something.” He teases. His fingers are warm and send goosebumps across your skin as they dance across your leg, inching up your thigh until you slightly squirm. Eddie doesn’t even try to hide the smirk on his lips.

You ignore his wandering hands as best as you can, although the lick of heat that runs up your spine when he fiddles with the hem of your baggy shirt sends your mind spinning, a dull throb of your center when his knuckles brush the crease of your hip. You raise an eyebrow, gazing at him and cocking your head to the side, “Well, do you?”

Eddie glances at you, busy drawing stars inside your thighs, “No.”

You roll your eyes, shoving your foot into his jean-clad thigh as he barks out a laugh, hands squeezing your bare calves. “That’s not funny, Munson. You’re on probation, you know?”

Eddie tilts his head, dreamy gaze in his eyes as he gently squeezes your calves, “I know. I’m working on it, though… which reminds me—” You take a deep breath, slinking your legs out of his grip and sitting up straight to stretch, “Think I’m in the mood for those pancakes now.” You hum.

Eddie gazes at you, jaw loose as he watches you stand up and completely dodge what he’s been spinning out about for the last twenty-four hours. “Birdie—” “Yeah, I’m starving now that I think of it. Let’s go.” You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug him up, ignoring his grumbles of protest.

It should be studied, the pull Eddie has on you, because here you both are in a booth at an old breakfast diner, and all you can think about is how you want nothing more than to slink over to the other side and burrow yourself in the warmth of his embrace.

But Eddie’s friends are here.

The entire ensemble: Nancy, Robin, Steve, Gareth, Jeff, and even Eric, who you hardly even see because he’s the busiest with groupies out of the Corroded Coffin band.

They caught you and Eddie on your way down to the lobby, and well… they just tagged along. Eddie wasn’t so happy about it, mumbling about how he can never shake these assholes, but you just snickered and told him to be nice.

So, now, you’re sitting across from Eddie in a diner with the smell of pancakes and maple syrup wafting through the air and a friendly chatter ringing throughout the table.

You try your hardest to pay attention to the conversations, but it’s hard when Eddie is glancing at you with these eyes that melt your insides. It doesn’t help when he leans forward on the table, shoulders pressing into the edge as his fingers skim your knee beneath it. You raise an eyebrow when he takes a menu, opens it, and stands it up to block the view of his friends as he beckons you forward. You lean forward, chest fluttering at the sight of Eddie’s pretty eyes so up close, pouty lips and curly hair that you want to reach out and card your fingers through. He’s a dream, no doubt about it.

“Let’s ditch them.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You can’t ditch your friends, Eddie.”

Eddie makes a face, “Why not? They crashed, and I have work to do.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “Work?”

Eddie grumbles, his voice carrying an obvious tone, “Yeah, I’ve only got until tonight to pay my dues.” He reminds you. You hum with a teasing glint, “I reckon that’s a fault on your part, Munson.”

Before Eddie can respond, the menu is torn out of his hands to reveal Gareth and Jeff snickering, “You do know we can still see you two, right?” Eric teases.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “I don’t know if you dipshits got the memo, but you definitely weren’t invited to this.”

You giggle, nudging your foot against his shin, “Don’t be rude,” You mumble. “Yeah, Eddie, don’t be rude.” Robin teases.

Eddie grumbles, ignoring his snickering friends as he stands up, “All of you can fuck right off.” He sticks up a decorated middle finger to his table of friends, and you smile as you slide out of the booth, warmth spreading through your body when he reaches around to grab your sweater.

“Oh, come on, we were just joking, Eds!”

Eddie waves them off, slinking an arm around your body to rest a hand on the small of your back, gently ushering you toward the exit as his friends create a scene.

“Hey, don’t be late to soundcheck, asshole, we won’t hear the end of it from Richie!” Jeff calls out, but Eddie doesn’t answer because he’s walking you both outside of the diner and muttering something about them being a pain in his ass.

“We could just take a flight out somewhere far away from them, princess. Say the word, and I’ll book it.” Eddie jokingly offers. You smile as you take your sweater from him with a small thanks, “They love you. That’s a good thing to have.” You remind him. Eddie rolls his eyes, scratching at the back of his neck as you begin walking down the street, “Sure, except not when I have important things to do. Which, when are you gonna put me out of my misery and tell me what you think?”

You hum, feing ignorance as you blink up at Eddie, “Think about what, Eddie?”

Eddie stares at you, blinking once before his lips spread into a smile, “You’re lucky you’re pretty.” He teasingly says through gritted teeth, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in as he jokingly presses his palm to your face, laughing as you squeal and squirm in his hold. “Eddie Munson thinks I’m pretty. How cute.” You mock as you grapple at his wrist, prying his hand from your face, “Only took him a month to figure that out.”

Eddie laughs, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” He drawls, “I always knew you were pretty. I never thought you weren’t pretty. Who told you that?” “Nobody told me that; you just,” you shrug, “Kind of hated my guts, so it went hand in hand.”

Eddie’s eyes soften at that, and your cheeks warm as his gaze zones in on you. You clear your throat, glancing away, “Are we going to eat or what, Munson? I told you I’m starving, and you just dragged me out of that diner, so.”

Eddie nods, “Yeah, yeah,” He waves before lacing his fingers with yours to drag you along, “I got a place in mind; let’s go.”

“If you wanted strawberries on your pancakes, then you should’ve asked for them.”

Eddie, you are learning, has sticky fingers. Sticky in the metaphorical sense where he just takes things without asking and sticky in the literal sense where he keeps reaching over to steal strawberries from your plate and ends up dipping his fingers in your maple syrup as well.

He’s like a child for fucks sake! Touching things he shouldn’t be touching and grinning at you with a ‘you can’t do anything about it because I’m cute’ glint in his eyes.

You watch as Eddie sucks the syrup off his thumb and smirks at you as he says, “Sharing is caring, you know?”

You look at his plate, tilting your head with a smirk before asking, “Yeah? Then can I have your hash browns?” Eddie glances at his plate, a frown spreading across his lips as he looks at you, “But there’s barely any left.” He points out.

Your eyebrows raise, and he sighs in defeat, cutting into his hash browns to give you half of it. You snicker as he carefully reaches over to put the side dish on your plate, pursing your lips to hold a laugh when you look up at him. “What’s so funny?” He grumbles, stabbing into his food and shoving a fork full into his mouth.

“Nothing. I just, like, hate hash browns.”

Eddie stops midchew, looking up at you for a brief moment. He’s silent as he resumes chewing his food and swallowing, quietly eyeing you for a moment before clearing his throat. “You hate hash browns?” He asks.

You nod as you take a bite of your eggs, and Eddie looks at you like you just told him something concerning. “I—... what do you mean you hate hash browns? Do you like potatoes?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your drink, “Sure.”

“Do you like fries?”

“I love fries.”

“Tater tots?”

“I like them every now and then,” You shrug.

Eddie’s head cocks in confusion, eyes narrowing, “So what’s the problem with hash browns?”

Your eyebrows raise, and an amused smile spreads across your lips, “Holy shit. I’m getting the sense that you might, I don’t know… love hash browns or something?”

Eddie scoffs, “Of course I fucking love hash browns. Are you fucking kidding me? Who doesn’t like hash browns?”

“Tommy Lommi.”

“Well then, they’re fucking weird— wait…” Eddie blinks at you and stares like you’ve just discovered time travel. “What do you mean, Tommy Lommi? How do you know Tommy Lommi hates hash browns?”

You shrug, “Ate breakfast with the band a few years ago. They gave him hash browns, and he returned the entire plate. A lot of people hate hash browns, Eddie.”

Eddie waves a hand in dismissal, scooting closer to the table as he responds in a hurried and amused tone, “You had breakfast with Black fucking Sabbath?” He exclaims.

You hold back a smile as you blink at the man before you, his brown eyes wide and blown from adrenaline, “Yeah, it— it was, like, a work thing. I was doing a short piece on them, so Anna and I had lunch with them and their manager.” At the mention of your manager's name, you make a mental note to call and update her on your piece.

Eddie raises two hands to his head, grasping his hair like he’s in distress, as he lets out a loud sound, drawing attention. You giggle, reaching out to grab his wrist and lower him back down to the table, “Eddie, you’re making a scene—” “You met Ozzy, and you just, like, casually forgot to mention that to me? Like he’s not my idol? Like he’s not my literal lord and savior? Do you even care about me?” He exclaims in a loud voice.

Your eyes widen in amusement as the man practically spins out right in front of you. “I’m sorry! I didn’t think it— wait, haven’t you met him before? Like on a red carpet or something?”

Eddie scoffs, leaning back into the booth and pulling a face like the words you’ve just said are rubbish. “Yeah, right. Like Ozzy Osborne would willingly surround himself with a bunch of untrained nuts like the boys of Corroded Coffin. He’s a professional, Birdie. That’s an insult.”

You giggle, gently nudging your plate away, taking a deep breath from feeling so full as you shrug, “Maybe if you cleaned up your act, it would happen.” You teasingly say.

Eddie looks at you, runs his eyes over your face, and smirks as he folds his arms over his chest, reaching up with one hand to twirl a piece of his hair between his fingers. “Yeah? And how do you suggest we do that?” He slinks his feet forward, gently tapping his shoe against yours before hooking an ankle around yours.

You hum, “I don’t know. Maybe cut back on the parties. Less reckless act and more calculated rockstar. Less groupies… none, if that.” You mutter the last part, and Eddie snickers. He hums as well, tipping his head side to side as if he’s thinking, “And would you say maybe,” He clears his throat, “Like, a girlfriend would do good as well?”

You huff out a laugh, “Nice try, Munson.” You snicker. “You’re far from girlfriend status with me.”

Eddie lowly hums, taking a deep breath as he shifts in his seat, “Yeah, well, I intend on changing that, so, are you done eating?”

Eddie’s sure that Richie will chew him out.

It’s the last day of tour before the next leg starts in a month, and Eddie is almost an hour late to soundcheck. Richie was adamant about being on schedule for today because it’s the last show, and Richie’s a goddamn perfectionist (who would take on the job of managing a group of rowdy rockstars if they have the personality of a fucking sergeant?). But honestly, Eddie doesn’t have a single bone in him that cares because— well, why would he care when he’s spent all day with you practically pressed into his side?

You’re Eddie’s every dream compacted into the cutest, kindest, prettiest human he’s ever fucking known, and Eddie keeps having these moments where he wants to smash his head through a brick wall for ever letting a cruel word form on his tongue towards you. He would pay an endless amount of money to rewind time and do it over again, do it right, and give you the respect you deserve.

Then maybe you would stop dodging his kisses.

“Come on, just one?” He begs, watching as you walk a few steps ahead of him. Eddie won’t lie; it’s a great view he’s got from behind. You’re wearing these black ripped jeans that hug your ass and thighs so perfectly Eddie wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you.

You shake your head, “Nope. A kiss has never been a kiss with you, and I’m not too keen on giving Richie more reasons to put me in time-out. You’re also definitely still on probation.”

Eddie grunts, “This is just cruel, sweetheart.”

He jogs a bit to catch up to speed with you, “While we’re on the topic, what’d he say to you?”

You glance at Eddie, brows furrowing, “Who? Richie?”

Eddie nods, and you shrug. “I assume the same thing he told you. Told me to hold off on it until the magazine blows over in the fanbase.”

Eddie hums because, well, that’s not what Richie told Eddie. Actually, Richie told Eddie to just forget it, don’t even attempt to do anything with that woman because when you fuck up, I’m gonna be the one left to clean it up. And isn’t that Richie’s fucking job? Isn’t that precisely why Richie was hired? To clean up the boys’ mess and make their appearance seem squeaky clean.

“I don’t blame him, though.”

Eddie’s neck practically snaps in your direction, and he has to stop you from walking any further down the backstage hallways because what the fuck are you saying right now?

“What do you mean?”

You shrug, glancing up at Eddie, “I mean, he’s just doing his job, Eddie. He’s trying to protect your image, and, honestly, I didn’t understand where he was coming from until he pointed out that I’m still practically press in the eyes of the industry, so.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.” Eddie snaps. Doesn’t mean to snap, really. Doesn’t mean to have a harsh tone or sound upset with you because he’s not. He’s upset with the situation and the absolute mess he’s created from having his head up his ass for so long. He’s upset because he doesn’t want to wait until the magazine blows over. He’s upset because he’s finally admitting to what he wants, and you’re right there, and he wants to work on getting you but fucking Richie— jesus christ, Eddie’s going to choke that bastard.

“That doesn’t even fucking make sense,” Eddie exclaims, “I already fucked up. There’s not much to fuck up at this rate.”

“It’s different when there’s feelings involved, Eddie.” And Eddie doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that you sound as if you’re siding with Richie, and he doesn’t like that you’re using your hot ass journalist tone with him. “What difference does it make?” Eddie stresses.

“Because shit could hit the fan. Things could go bad again, and, in Richie’s eyes, I could easily become an enemy. It’s a rational call to make.”

No.

No, no, no, this isn’t what Eddie wants, and it’s not how Eddie wants you picturing what you two could be— a disaster.

Eddie blinks, heart pounding in his chest because god, he wants you and he’s scared he’s lost you before even getting the chance to fix things. “So… is that— is that what you want? To wait?”

You gaze up at Eddie, “I— no?”

Eddie frowns, stomach churning as you look away to avoid his gaze, “That didn’t sound confident. You don’t want to do this?”

“It’s… That’s not what I’m saying. I just— I’m not quite sure where this is aiming.”

“What do you mean? I told you how I feel.”

You make an exasperated noise, stepping out from the wall Eddie had you caged against, “No, you haven’t told me how you feel. You’ve told me what you want. That’s not enough.”

And you’re looking at Eddie with these eyes that make him want to crack open his chest and let you see it for yourself because fuck, the only time Eddie has ever confessed his feelings to someone, she ended up breaking his heart without a single care in the world.

And for this entire month, you’ve been slipping from Eddie’s hands, but this is the time that he’s actually felt it. He feels dizzy and sick and so angry with himself.

“I— well, how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

It’s like time slows as you gaze up at Eddie, eyes filled with so many words and uncertainty that Eddie has only himself to blame for. “I don’t know.” You softly reply.

Eddie says nothing as he stares back, gently nodding as you slink your arms around yourself, “I don’t know, Eddie. I’m… I don’t know this side of you— and that’s not to say I don’t like or want it, but— but what happens when we get bored without the chase?”

Eddie’s heart breaks.

“When?”

Your eyes fall shut, and you shake your head, “That’s not what I meant–” “But that’s what you said.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. You know what I mean, Eddie.”

Eddie scoffs as he steps back, “No, Birdie, honestly, I don’t. I’m actually, like, really fucking confused right now.”

Your face twists in defense and your eyes glint with something that Eddie can’t quite put his finger on, and it makes him want to scream. “You seriously can’t be upset with me for being hesitant on this, Eddie.”

Eddie looks at you, pauses, and holds his breath before shaking his head, “No, I’m—” He steps forward, “I’m sorry. I’m not upset.”

Your lips are pulled into a frown as Eddie reaches out to softly skim his knuckles across your elbow, silently asking for you to stay open for him. “I’m not upset with you.” He repeats.

You don’t step closer or move away, and Eddie takes that as a win either way. But before either of you can say anything else, Eddie is being whisked away with his assistant and promising to finish the conversation afterward.

You don’t see Eddie for the rest of the day, and for the first time, it’s not Eddie’s fault but yours.

You regret to admit that the small dispute you and Eddie had caused you to spiral within your thoughts, and you spent most of the day holed up in your room packing, writing, pacing, and thinking until you exhausted yourself. On a good note, though, the day passes quickly, and before you know it, you’re making your way down the Madison Square Garden backstage halls.

You’ve walked these halls enough to know your way around by heart now, so you don’t have trouble finding the dressing room. The usual small group of ladies that stand outside are there in their Sunday best for the show finale, passing a blunt between each other— and you don’t even notice the missing leader of the group until she’s storming out of the room.

“Fuck you, Eddie!” She turns to yell into the room. You watch from a few feet away, stunned and slightly terrified. She’s beautiful, even as mad as she is now; her red hair is styled in bouncy curls that jump and jolt with each wave of her hand, her heeled boots clicking on the ground with each stomp of her heel. She steps into the room, pointing at someone who you can only assume to be Eddie, but the door obstructs your view, “I knew you before you had a single fucking dime! If you think for one second she’s gonna stick with you through all of your bullshit rock and roll facade, then you’re wrong!” She snaps.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Kenny, please get rid of her.” You hear the familiar grumble of Eddie’s voice. Kenny, the security guard by the door, steps forward and ushers the angry woman away from the threshold. “Don’t fucking touch me.” She snatches her arm from his hold, and Kenny lifts a hand in surrender, “Look, I’m gonna have to get you banned from the building if you don’t leave. Make my job easier, please.” Kenny replies in a bored tone.

The girl scoffs with a roll of her eyes before turning around and storming down the hall, her posse quickly trotting behind.

You don’t hear the usual chatter in the dressing room, so you’re slightly suspicious as you walk up, kindly smiling towards Kenny as he lets you in. The door shuts behind you, and you take in the empty room, void of the usual hustle of band members and staff.

“Kenny, I swear to god, if it’s another groupie, I’m gonna fire you.” You hear Eddie say from the ensuite restroom. Eddie doesn’t notice you as he walks into the room, busy ruffling his hair up for the show and walking toward the vanity, “I already told you who to let in.”

Finally, Eddie lifts his head, a cigarette hanging from his lips as his eyes brighten when he sees you through the vanity mirror. You smile, shifting in your spot as Eddie whips around to look at you, “Hi.”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he takes in the view, eyes raking over your body as he blindly snuffs out his cigarette on the wooden vanity, face stunned as he walks over to you, “What the fuck?” He lowly says.

He’s reaching out to loop his fingers around your wrist and bring you closer, eyes traveling further and further down your frame, “What the fuck?” He repeats.

“Eddie,” You groan. “Where the fuck have you been hiding this, princess?” He exclaims.

“It’s nothing. Stop.” You grumble, but Eddie only shakes his head, “Nothing? Are you insane?” He steps back, hand wrapped in yours as his teeth dig into his bottom lip, “Let me look at you, come on.”

Your dress is black, tight, and form-fitting, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a puffy lace hem matching the long sleeves' scrunchie endings. Two thin black straps hug your shoulders, tauntingly digging into your collarbones. The dress stops just above the middle of your thigh, leaving little to the imagination—- much in Eddie’s favor. Below the dress peeks out a black garter belt, two shiny silver clips winking at Eddie as they hold up your black thigh-high stockings. Your feet are held in shiny black stilettos. Sex.

Eddie nearly whimpers.

Eddie wants to sink to his knees, push up the skirt of your dress, and stuff his face between your legs. He wants to make you cum on his tongue until you’re pushing him away and begging for a break. Wants to feel the nylon stretch of your stockings scratching up against his ears as your legs clamp around his head. God, Eddie wants it, he wants it so fucking bad.

You smell sweet and taste even sweeter when Eddie presses his lips to yours, practically swallowing you whole— he would if he had the choice. Your lips split into a smile against Eddie’s, breathily laughing as he blindly leads you to the vanity, walking until he feels your body softly thud against the counter.

“Jesus. I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it,” Eddie grumbles against your lips, sloppy and wet, as he trails down to your jaw, neck, and collarbones. His hands are greedy as they grapple at your hips, squeezing the thicker parts to tilt you towards him, groaning when your pelvis drags against his quickly hardening length. You pant his name, one hand dropping to steady yourself against the counter as the other hand sinks into his damp, curly strands. Eddie groans, stuffing his face into your neck, licking and biting as he grinds you against him. You’re all whiney breaths and moans, and Eddie just can’t help himself when he nudges his nose against the strap of your dress before sticking his tongue out and dragging it up the length of the flimsy black piece.

Your head drops back, chest rising and falling with a sinful glisten under the vanity lights as Eddie drags his tongue all the way from your shoulder to your chin before smashing his lips back onto yours, fingers curled around the base of your neck. Wet, hot, and heavy.

Your lips curl against Eddie’s mouth, hips grinding against him, “S-should I be concerned about the angry woman that just stormed out of here?” You lowly ask.

Eddie laughs, smearing his lips against yours, teasingly flicking his tongue into your mouth, “Definitely not. Good fucking riddance.” Eddie can’t wait to tell you all about how he learned about Lany’s money-greedy actions that led him to the page of every tabloid with a false girlfriend.

You fail terribly to hold the snort that rises in your throat, and Eddie cuts it off with his mouth, swallowing your hums as he presses his body into yours.

“Want you.” Eddie needily whispers. You whine, fingers curling against Eddie’s roots to draw a throaty groan from him. “Need to have you, baby—” “I— wait, wait, wait.” Your hands are pressing against Eddie’s shoulders, and god, Eddie feels lightheaded as he pulls away, blown-out eyes blinking down at you.

You huff, squirming against the counter, breath heavy and bated as you reach down to tug your dress down, “We need to talk.”

Eddie swallows, running a hand through his hair as he gazes at you— and fuck, he’s so hard, and you’re so pretty, and Eddie thinks he might bust just looking at you.

Still, Eddie blinks through the thick fog of arousal and nods, taking a moment to not-so-discreetly adjust himself within his pants.

Ever the gentleman, Eddie offers you the seat at the vanity, but you only shake your head, and well— fuck, Eddie just wants to get back to kissing you so he doesn’t fight it. He hops up onto the chair and gazes at you as you lean back against the vanity, fingers fidgeting with one another.

You’re avoiding Eddie’s gaze, and Eddie doesn’t like it very much, so he distracts himself by lighting a cigarette, but it does little to aid him in distraction when the words slip from your mouth.

“I think we need time away from each other.”

Eddie’s looking at you like you just told him you killed his dog, and you hate that you start feeling as if you’re wrecking everything when you know— when you both know— this is the best thing for the future.

The unlit cigarette between Eddie’s lips is removed and tossed to the side as he blinks at you, shaking his head with a confused and hurt expression, “W–what do you mean?”

You slink your arms across your body from instinct, mentally pushing yourself to stand on the rocky island you’ve built— because even though you want nothing more than to cave and throw yourself into Eddie’s arms and start over, it’s not right. You didn’t start on a good note, and it’s unfair to yourself or Eddie to avoid fully acknowledging that just because of your intense pull toward one another. You both need time.

“I don’t understand.”

“Just so we can have the space to figure out what we want and need from each other, you know?”

Eddie runs a hand over his face, “Is this about what happened earlier? Because I was being an asshole, I know, and I’m sorry, but just give me a chance–” You shake your head, stepping closer to Eddie and running your fingers over his wrists, “No. No, that’s not what this is about— I mean, it might’ve spurred it on, but it was on my mind before that.”

Eddie’s face twists in defeat, “I want to fix what I did, baby, just give me a chance.”

You push his long bangs from his eyes, “I am, Eddie. I promise I am. But I need space— we need space.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at you, and your heart aches. “Everything’s been so quick, Eddie. It’s only been a month, and there’s been so many emotions—”

“That’s bullshit, Birdie, and you know it.”

You tense at his harsh tone, “Excuse me?”

“You said when,” He reminds you, “When you get bored. You really expect me to believe you ‘just want space’? You’re scared.”

Your eyebrows dip in anger then, eyes narrowing at the man in front of you as your chest tightens, “And you’re not?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, ringed hands flailing in exasperation. “Yes, I’m fucking scared, obviously. I never would’ve fucked up this bad if I wasn’t scared.”

Your eyes are brimmed with tears, and you’re beginning to think maybe you shouldn’t have even come tonight. Maybe you should’ve just left without a single word and made Eddie hate you all over again. At least the foundations of your relationship were solid and clearly stated then.

How could everything have gotten so confusing in such little time?

Eddie notices your shifting demeanor and breathes, rubbing his eyes and smudging his eyeliner. You fight the instinct to reach out and fix it for him. “Okay, so… you want time apart.”

You nod, fingers twisting amongst themselves. Eddie turns his rings around his knuckles as silence cracks down on you both. Eddie swallows, eyes catching yours for a split moment, “Okay.” He nods.

You want to sink your hands into his and tell him you’re hurting just as much, wanting him just as much, but if you touch him now, you’re afraid you’ll never let go.

“It’ll be good, Eds.” You softly say.

The curtain of his hair obstructs Eddie’s face, but through the tiny windows, you can see the twitch of pain that flashes across his features. “Are you staying for the show?” He asks, eyes trained on his busy fingers, rings glistening in the lights. God, you want to give in to him so badly.

You shift in your spot, clearing your throat and blinking away tears, “I’ll never leave if I do…”

As if on cue, Kenny opens the door and pokes his head into the room, calling for Eddie to notify him of the running clock. You and Eddie only speak through gazes for a split moment, and you both know if he stays any longer, neither will leave this room. You only have enough strength to nod towards the door.

You can’t even watch Eddie leave. Because watching Eddie go seems to be the recurring theme of the month— but now, you’re sending him away— and it hurts. You were so close yet so far away from justice.

The dressing room is vast and holds Eddie's phantom presence and smell, and you can’t seem to hold the silent tears that end up soaking your cheeks. You can hear the distant screaming of fans, the loud booming of the opening to a song, and deep down, you understand that if you don’t leave now, you’ll end up in the crowd, there’s no doubt.

You don’t recognize the opening song for tonight, but you hear the words and Eddie’s voice crystal clear— tugging you back with every step you take towards the arena's door.

My head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost

I need to feel something, 'cause I'm still so far from home

Cross your heart and hope to die

Promise me you'll never leave my side

…..

So, you can drag me through hell

If it meant I could hold your hand

I will follow you, 'cause I'm under your spell

And you can throw me to the flames

I will follow you, I will follow you

The song echoes in your mind from the time the door slams shut to the moment you step into your cold apartment in Michigan, and it never stops.

————

part twelve

————

a/n: OHHH PLS DONT HATE ME IT HAD TO BE DONE AND IM SORRY THIS IS ON NEW YEARS EVE !!! these two will be back for one more round of fun in 2024. ok let me shut up before i start saying all my sob shit

as always, thank u for reading if you've made it this far and i appreciate any feedback, ILY AND I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A BEAUTIFUL NEW YEARS, STAY SAFE PLS <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn @mossiswriting @kellsck @joannamuns9n @siriuslysmoking

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nouvellevqgue · 6 months

Text

i. oh my, never seen that color blue · ﹙ charles leclerc ﹚

summary: red is indeed his color, but what if he switched to blue?

a/n: catluvr444 is max's girlfriend username

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦

charles_leclerc added to their story!

ˑ⭒ʚ ִinstagram ݁.٭

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, sza, shakira, and 459,725 more

yourusername trip-trippin' on you 👜

view all 56,208 comments...

username where are you goinnn???👀👀

⤷ yourusername nyc!!

⤷ username she's going to nyc to... watch taylor's concert?

username spill your hair secret bestie

⤷ yourusername hair oiling, conditioner and shampoo by pantene

maxverstappen1 blue suits you better

⤷ charles_leclerc she looks good with both red and blue

⤷ pierregasly but to be honest she looks better with blue though

⤷ charles_leclerc shut up

username she's literally so prettyyy

username how can i have her hair

ellamai glad you love the soonggg�� 😚

⤷ yourusername i love it everytime!!

username YESSS Y/N PHOTOGRAPHED BY CHARLES IS BACK ‼️‼️‼️

⤷ username bless him for taking this view of her😇

damianodavid you suits all the color it's amazing

yourusername thank you so much 🫶🏻 damianodavid

sza that wind and your back view is truly a blessing

⤷ username i mean does she lie tho

honeymoon 💝💝

username she's literally so cool omg

username but do y'all realize when she wore blue, and so does he...

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 740,129 more

yourusername new shirt alert.

👤: charles_leclerc

view all 89,570 comments...

username the second slide is so him

username he has a questionable sense of fashion for those graphic t-shirt

danielricciardo 👀😁

charles_leclerc i can't believe you took the picture

⤷ username so it's a secret picture kinda thing until she spoil it

⤷ yourusername well i mean it's matched with what's inside

⤷ danielricciardo let's do this conversation in a whole different place shall we

landonorris easy with that shirt

⤷ username LANDO😭😭

username his fashion is matched with max smh

⤷ username typical dad graphic tee and skinnny jeans????

⤷ username 😭😭😭😭

username it's all fun and game until when she posted charles doing the same thing she did yesterday

username she knows what she did to humanity when she posted this

username wait... he wore blue?

⤷ username OMG YEAH I DIDN'T REALIZE IT💀💀

username oh. rb charles is coming?

⤷ redbullracing 👀👀

⤷ scuderiaferrari don't you dare

⤷ username ferrari is scared to lose him but still giving him that junk ass car is making me WHEEZING SO HARD

ˑ⭒ʚ ִtwitter ݁.٭

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername, pierregasly, and 948,201 more

charles_leclerc my favorite one to hold, forever to keep

view all 259,170 comments...

username oh no since when he became poetic😦

username idk but i had either bad or good feeling or nah about this

username blue charles spotted online👀👀

yourusername GUYS WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM IN BLUE???

username y/n honey look, he works in ferrari. FERRARI IS RED (but yk rb is blue)

⤷ redbullracing 👀👀

⤷ username rb admin wdym by that

username her fit is always been the best

carmenmmundt loving your fit match. so much.

lilymhe charles really hit your good angle there

⤷ yourusername i don't have a bad angle😎

⤷ lilymhe oh yeah? wait until i found your year book

carlossainz55 yourusername what did you to him until he get like this

⤷ yourusername promise to you i didn't say anything to him

danielricciardo i've never seen blue looks ever so matched with him

⤷ yourusername so all those dark blue jeans for nothing????

scuderiaferrari our romeo🌹

username he progressively getting more and more blue as i look into his page

sebastianvettel Charles, what kind of book are you reading to be this romantic?

⤷ username oh even seb ask you this because like WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON

⤷ landonorris wait it's all came from a book he's reading?

⤷ charles_leclerc no, not really 😁

⤷ carlossainz55 you're not good with secrets, charles.

⤷ charles_leclerc i know.

yourusername

liked by brielarson, isahernaez, charles_leclerc, and 729,566 more

yourusername i swear it's blue irl

view all 62,420 comments...

username ASUEHDHEJSJJWSJSJSNSJD

username THE ROMANCE IS BACK

username it's more greenish though

⤷ yourusername but believe me, at some point it's blue. like light blue.

username once again charles with blue accent spotted: plaster

⤷ username i love the plaster tho, it suit his eye color

username WHY ARE YOU GUYS SO DAMN CUTEEE

camilamendes four pairs of pretty eyes

username literally mother and father

nicolezefanya aww you guys are so cute

ellefanning i miss you so much much much

⤷ yourusername miss you too like forever🥺

username isa liked this🥹❤️

⤷ username y/n is her closest friends, thank god they didn't lost any contact

landonorris JUST LET BE SINGLE IN PEACE PLEEEASEE

⤷ username lando is me, truly the man of the year

maxverstappen1 it's green actually, not blue

⤷ yourusername you know it's blue under the sunlight

⤷ catluvr444 yeah max just admit it

⤷ maxverstappen1 catluvr444 i can't believe you choosing to be on her side

⤷ catluvr444 sometimes a girl should make her choice 🤷‍♀️

username couple goals fr

username missing her on the paddock

⤷ username are they breaking up?

⤷ username no, she's busy on her movie project so she can't be with him

alex_albon i see max is already going to do his usual maxplaining in front of me now. help me

⤷ lilymhe omw to the rescue

⤷ username is it because of the blue ore green thing?

⤷ alex_albon apparently yes.

yourusername added to their story!

caption: gotcha

#✶!#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x you #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff

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ant0nsfirstluv · 6 months

Text

Riize romantic headcanons

A/N: firsttt postttt just some simple headcanons I have for Riize as boyfriends 🫶🏾 hope you enjoy

Warnings: none frm what I know

More under the cut

Shotaro:

So in love with you whaaattt 🙁

Teaches you some easy japanese phrases so you guys can have your own small convos and inside jokes with each other without others budding in LMAO

Hug machine, even if he isn’t just hugging you he has an arm around you in some type of way whether it’s around your shoulders, you two link arms, an arm around your hip, anything !!

For a date he’ll probably take you to the fair, he’d pay for all the food you two eat and has you get on so many rides the main one being the farris wheel, you will take pics in it !

He likes when you wear his clothes especially his big graphic tee shirts, he’d probs buy couple shirts for you two (the cute ones not the corny ones 😭)

Randomly teaches you dances and once you have it right he’ll kiss your forehead and tell you how good you did

Always checks in on you, sometimes he’ll shoot you a quick texts asking about how your day was and if you have anything you need to rant about

Uses cute emoticons rather than emojis when making your contact name

Eunseok:

He really loves you but gets worried that he doesn’t show it well :/ even tho he is literally the biggest sweetheart

Buys you snacks throughout the day and randomly hands them to you but will play it off by saying something like “ I got these because you’re greedy 🫵”

Places your hand in his jacket pocket, keeps a hand in the back pocket of your jeans, holds and kisses your hand while sitting together, silently plays with your hair in any way he can

Even though he’s nonchalant he does worry about you like if you’re taking longer than usual to get home or he can’t figure out where you are he’ll try to be calm but soon sends a row of messages

Has random moments of cuteness aggression, you two will be sitting together and he’ll look at you and just squish you by pinching/smushing your cheeks, randomly pulling you extremely close going “AAAAAH SO CUTE”

Basketball date 😗 will go tough on you until you make THAT ONE FACE, and then he automatically goes easy on you..hell he’ll even lift you to the hoop

Sungchan:

Your favorite giant

When in public he’s practically all over you so nobody even ASSUMESS you’re single, will literally hold you from behind kissing the top of your head + cheek

So clumsy. You’ll get random text from him like “How much is a doorknob.” And you’ll ask him why and then he sends a pic of the door without its knob

Lovesss kissing your face he CANTTT STOPPPP

Play wrestling is KEY ! you’ll be teasing him and he’ll pick you up and toss you into his bed or couch and start play fighting

Goes “😧😦” if you start fighting back 😭😭.

Goes out of his way to feed you, like randomly he’ll be like “you hungry ?” and even if you say no he’ll buy you a little sum sum to munch on for now or later

Yes, he’ll have you go to the gym with him to spend time together 😭

He’ll teach you the proper form for some of the machines and do goofy muscle flex poses in the gym mirror to make you laugh

Wonbin

In the beginning he’ll try to come off as some playboy and would be quietly flirty

Does things to come off as smooth..slides in compliments, somehow finds a way to wrap his arm around you, randomly asks you on dates

Even though he seems all cool and smooth in reality he’s blushing as soon as you look/walk away

Most definitely does things in order to impress you..plays your favorite songs on his guitar, tries his best to win if he’s playing with the members and knows you’re watching

takes you out clothes shopping and has you try on wtv he thinks you’d look good in, he’d think you were so cute and would try sooo hard not to geek out watching you dress up 😓

Gets you a matching pair of earrings with him :(( it’ll either have a matching gemstone or a matching engraved symbol

Its been confirmed that he can be clingy so he’ll do whatever to be around you, if you’re laying down on your phone he’ll come lay/sit by you and it turns into cuddling, he’ll follow you around without noticing etc etc basically like a cat lowkey

You two will be quietly cuddling soo close and then he just randomly says “I wish I could live in your skin.” And you’d go “What.” Just for him not to repeat it EVERRR

Seunghan:

this man is literally…delusional over you 😭

considering he’s a libra (imma whore for astrology) before you two would even be together he’d have a “SHE WILLL BE MINEE” mentality once his crush begins

for a first date once you two are together I feel like it’d be sweet and simple, you over at his playing games and watching movies eating some takeout with r&b playing in the back getting to know each other even moree 🫶

has you sit on his lap while he plays fifa just so you don’t feel lonely waiting for him to hop off the game,, he’ll even teach you how to play it + other games he has..PLUS he’ll shower you with kisses when either of you win

you know how seunghan will call sohee cute for doing literally anything…yea he does the same exact thing with you 😭😭

you wake up from a nap ? “cuteee”, you’re in the middle of eating “cuteee” even if you’re scolding or bickering with him about something he’d stop and go “cuteee”

possessive, just like Sungchan he’d refuse to let anyone even assumeee you’re single he’d give as much pda as you’re comfortable with just to let these mfs KNOWW

if a girl tries to flirt with him he’d shut it down so fast he’d mention you every 5 seconds just to irritate her and get her away

Sohee:

A bestfriend and boyfriend in ONEEEE

the members in the group call you two the twins because y’all are attached at the HIPPP

ofc he sings for you like cmon now . he’d sing you lullabies to help you sleep if you’re having a hard time, he’d sing to you while cleaning up together, sometimes he just feels like singing for you just because

likes watching you do your hair + makeup. he’d even ask you what each product does to your face or what you’re putting in your hair, he’ll even asks if you’ll let him do it for you one day ☹️

lovessss sharing with you. It can be anything..clothes, food, body wash, his computer whtvvv as long as you mention enjoying it he’ll share it with you

uses your shampoo or lightly sprays your perfume so he’ll have your scent around and wants you to do vice versa with his shampoo + cologne

he’ll randomly make you instant foods and will just pop up with the food with the biggest smile on his face even if you weren’t super hungry you couldn’t refuse a few bites

this is so specific . but imagine sharing icecream or a milkshake with him..like it would probably be so cute omfg 😭

Anton:

takes a random photos of himself + the members just for your reaction

makes you a playlist almost biweekly..has the title “for my other half” and the picture for it is either a solo candid pic of you he took one day or a photo of you two together

this is such a random headcanon but imagine one day you’re super burnt out tired or sick he’d help you brush your teeth and do your skincare in the morning

takes .5 pics of you and sulks/pouts if you asks him to delete them (he won’t)

literally uses pinterest to come up with date ideas

he’d come up with a day long date itinerary for what you and him would do like everything is planned out and he even has a few back up plans if things go left

he will carelessly blow your phone up sending hilarious ass tiktoks or simply updates you about his day and asks you about yours

let him take you swimming !!! he’d be a little shy with you seeing him shirtless one on one but he’d overcome it, he’d teach you how to dive and will even race you 😭

he’d feel awkward about public affection but would force himself to have courage and will suddenly kiss you + wrap his arms around you

likes nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck whenever you two are cuddling

if y’all aren’t holding hands you two are mosttt definitelyyy holding pinkies

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sophswritingthings · 5 months

Text

explosive - hazel callahan

pairing: hazel callahan x forfem!cheerleader!reader

warning(s): no warnings, actually! it’s just really fluffy <3 swearing, tho!

tropes: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of canon compliant, first kiss

summary: hazel’s had a crush on you forever. and it really comes to a boiling point when you and the girls go to tp and egg jeff's house. and when she, y'know, set offs a bomb.

a/n: was hazel knowing how to make a bomb hot…….. or was that just me?

word count: 1,144 words / 6,176 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hazel was watching you from afar; her eyes trailing up and down your figure. your cute, graphic tee to your lazy comfy sweatpants; which, she only knew your wore when you wanted to get messy. since, you only ever wore them during your art class.

“hazel, your fucking staring her down,” pj glared at the girl beside her. “you're such a stalker.”

“I— i am not!” hazel hissed back, “I’m… gonna go work on that bomb now.”

meanwhile, you were sort of watching her too. the way her eyes creased together into somewhat of an angry look; but you didn’t think you'd ever seen hazel callahan truly angry.

that was besides the point.

you thought she was adorable, to which, she was.

and those thoughts were now dragging you toward jeff's car, where hazel was slipped under. her marked up convers were hanging out from the top of the car.

“hey, hazel.”

the car almost jerked up, and you heard a “fuck” from under the car. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, though you did wonder if she was okay.

“you okay, hazel? I didn’t mean to spook you. probably should have thought about that before I came up on someone under a car, huh?” you chuckle in response.

“I-it’s fine,” she says from under the car, her voice choked up. she was nervous, and her face was best red—glad that it was hidden under the body of the car.

“you sure?” you cock your head, bending down to be sat on your knees. “that sounded kinda painful.”

hazel hums a little, “mm-hm!” in a response. she slides out from under the car for a moment. she wanted to see your beautiful face, even if hers was currently covered in soot and ash.

and even if it was beat red.

than a loud, shrill beep sounded from under the car.

“um, hazel, is that something we should be concerned about——“

out of instinct, she grasps your hand tight. she pulls herself to her feet, as well as you, and begins to charge for their “getaway” car. she slides into the backseat, pulling you in beside her.

after a few seconds, you feel her hand still clasped around yours. It made your heart beat a million miles a minute, her rough, coarse hands rubbing against yours. In comparison, yours were small and soft. holding a hand like hazel's felt…

… nice.

a few moments later, you feel those same hands covering your ears, pulling your head close to the crook of her neck. instead of covering her own ears, she covered yours, as if you didn’t have the hands to do so.

she was so cute. so thoughtful…

you two were, as of now, in the car alone. despite the damn bomb going off; the girls still hadn’t hopped back in the car, hadn’t driven away.

that left you alone with a hot girl you had a crush on.

and you were pretty sure she liked you, too.

“so,” you gently nudge your knee against hazel’s. “how the hell do you know how to make a bomb?” you scoff, glancing at her with a playful expression.

“Its… not that hard,” she laughs, looking bashful as ever. “not like I’m some child genius.”

“still impressive,” you nudge your knee against her's again, causing her to look up at you, “learn that in robotics, or somethin’?”

she shrugs, “um, the mechanics of the it, sure,” hazel clears her throat. “rest online…”

“it’s.. it’s. yeah, it’s cool.” you smile softly. you gaze at her, maybe for a moment too long, your eyes locked together. “hazel… I… um—“

your words are cut off.

the rest of the girls slide into the car.

two more slide into the back, isabel and brittany. they pressed the two girls closer together, your thigh pressed gently against hazel’s. it made you blush, sure, but—it felt good. It felt… right.

you and hazel glance at each other, laughing softly. it’s a knowing laugh. you know what you were going to say; and you hoped you'd get the chance to finish it later. It was hazel's car that they were driving in, after all. they'd have to drop isabel and brittany off, drop pj off, let josie drive herself home than—

—it would be just you two.

twenty minutes of driving later and it’s just the two of you. you’ve moved into the drivers and passengers seat, the only sound between you two for a moment is the sound of the heater in hazel’s car rumbling to keep you warm in the cold weather.

“.. I have a feeling you knew what I was gonna say.. don’t you?” you chuckle, your cheeks bright red as you gaze out the windshield in front of you.

“.. I-I could guess,” hazel murmurs, her fingers tapping against the leather steering wheel. “because I kind wanted to say it, too.”

you pause. you had a feeling that it was reciprocated, but god to hear it out loud…

“well, than..” you whisper, “good to know.”

hazel chuckles, “yeah.. that’s pretty good to know.”

you laugh right back, realizing how stupid your words actually sounded.

you grab your purse as the car comes to a stop outside your large house. you open the passengers door, stepping outside the car.

and, unsurprisingly, hazel has followed you.

“so,” your eyes trail up her body, landing on her beautiful blue eyes. “could I say it’s pretty evident that i’d really like to kiss you right now?”

“you.. could say that.” hazel murmured, resting a hand on your cheek. she began to lean down, considering your height difference. her lips where inches from yours. “can I—“

before she gets to finish her question, you gently press your lips against hers. they’re warm; and taste almost like a hint of vanilla lipgloss.

It was good. It was all so good. It felt like your insides were exploding, from the idea. your stomach squirming, your hands twitching on the back of hazel’s neck—which, you were sure she could feel.

when you pulled back, you took in a little gasp of air.

“a date, than?” you prompt, smiling. “how does tomorrow sound?”

“tomorrow?” her eyes light up at the thought. she didn’t think you’d wanna go on a date with her that soon. “sounds perfect. I—I’ll come and pick you up?”

“amazing,” you nod your head, giving her a smile and a wave over your shoulder as you walk toward your house.

she watched as you slipped inside, leaning against her car with her arms folded. the idea that such an amazing girl would like… her? the loser masc lesbian is who nobody talked to?

the idea was foreign to her.

yet here you were, kissing her and asking her on a date.

it was all so… amazing, to her.

she couldn’t wait. not one second.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #lesbian #sapphic #wlw #fanfic #oneshot #x reader

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theblackestswan · 3 months

Text

Silent Desires | #3

Synopsis — There was a time when you pondered how you'd ever let it be known how much you desired Jungkook. But now? He's back. And he's not being silent with his desires anymore.

• Jungkook × F!Reader

• Brothers best friend, childhood friends to somewhat strangers to lovers, smut, fluff, and a bit of angst

• explicit language

• word count: 1.4k+

previous chapter

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The smell of coffee swarmed your nose.

Seven am. Time to wake up.

"Another day, another dollar." You needed that dollar more than anything. It was the dreaded Monday morning, and you honestly thought about calling in sick, telling Jimin to tell Jungkook to not stop by, and just pretend like this never happened.

But you couldn't. You needed money.

You got up and headed for the shower. After you were done, you went to your closet and picked out your outfit. Thankfully, your work was very chill in terms of how you get to express yourself. You decided to go for a pair of black leggings, a graphic band tee, and your favorite Converse. You couldn't be bothered to do much to your hair so you threw it up in a messy bun.

You grabbed your phone, and your bag and headed to the kitchen.

Breakfast was not your thing. Never has been, never will be. So you settled on a couple granola bars, and a cup of coffee. It was now about 7:45am, and you knew Jungkook would be here at 8.

"Good morning my beautiful sister." Jimin grabbed himself his own cup of coffee and sat down next to you. "How you feel this morning?"

That's a great question. You didn't even have an answer for yourself. "I'm alright. Not pleased that Kook has to take me to work, but, here I am."

Jimin sighed and rolled his eyes "Y/N, it's okay. Trust me, he wouldn't have offered if he didn't want to."

But why does he want to? Why did he suddenly want to move closer to 'you guys'? Why does he suddenly want to be the Knight in shining armor in every situation?

"I'm not trying to sound ungrateful, I'm just confused I guess." Which is true. You were so confused.

"Confused about what?"

"Confused as to why he is doing all of this for me, I'm not his friend. You are, Chim. Not me." You tried to say this as softly as you could. You never talked to Jimin about how you felt towards his friendship with Jungkook.

You weren't mad at Jimin. At one point, yes, you were. But now? No. Jungkook and Jimin are best friends. They were made for each other. At one point you thought they could be romantic soulmates even. That was squashed when you overheard them talking about the head they had got in the bathroom of a club but...they have a friendship like no other.

But, you'd be lying if you said that having Jungkook here, brought back up all those feelings you once had. The feeling of being friends with Jungkook first, and him just disposing of you for your cool, older brother. Again, you weren't mad at Jimin. But why did it take Jungkook, all these years to suddenly want to start being friendly with you. He had the time before.

"Y/N, Jungkook was your friend first. And sure, maybe him and I hit it off even more, but maybe, with him being back down here, he wants to pick up your guy's friendship again. Just let it happen. He's a good guy who wants to help."

Jimin's right. He is a good guy, who obviously wants to help. But why? No one seems to be able to answer that.

Before you can dive more into the thought, your doorbell rang and it's surely no other than Jeon Jungkook.

"Hey man! How's your morning?" Jimin greeted him as he let him in.

"Going pretty good, and you?" Jungkook didn't take off his jacket or shoes, you guys will be leaving soon anyways, so no need.

"Just fighting with that one," Jimin motioned his head towards you in the kitchen, "about you. But, it is what it is." He smiled.

"What about me?" Jungkook was curious now.

"Well, she just doesn't understand what you're motive is for doing all this for her. Helping with her car, and taking her to work. She says that your my friend, and not hers." He shrugged.

Jungkook just nodded as he stared at the floor, "I see. I'll talk to her about it." He flashed your brother a soft smile.

You looked through your bag one more time to make sure you had everything. "Ready if you are."

Jungkook let out a small smirk, barely noticeable, "I'm more than ready."

~•~

Why couldn't you have picked a job closer to home? You were sure you were gonna pull your hair out of your scalp. There was so much tension in this car. You could feel it.

It was like both of you wanted to say something, but neither of you could find the words. The low sound of the music wasn't doing anything for you guys. This felt awkward. This felt weird.

Was there any oxygen in here?

Just as you were trying to figure out whether you hated the the man in the seat next you to, or you wanted to fuck him, he spoke.

"Y/N, I want you to know I'm doing all this for you because I care. No one is forcing me. So, please stop thinking that."

Fucking Jimin and his big mouth. Of course he told Jungkook.

All you could do was sigh. "Look, I'm grateful you're doing all this. So grateful. And I know I'm being a brat right now, but I can't figure you out. You are my brothers friend, not-"

"Stop saying that. I hate when you say that." His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Stop saying what Jungkook? The truth? You haven't spoken to me besides a few Facebook comments here and there, over the last 5 years. But you talked to Jimin every single day. You hang out with him almost every single weekend. And now you decide you want to come back down here and be friends with me again?" You were trying to not get too riled up seeing as you have to go to work soon.

Jungkook let out a deep breath he didn't even know he was holding in. "Y/N, it wasn't like that. Trust me, I had a reason for distancing myself. And you have every right to be mad at me. I shouldn't have just left you like you didn't matter to me, but trust me when I say, I always asked your brother about you. I always asked how you were doing, I always asked to see pictures of you, when you didn't post much online, I texted your brother to ask if you were okay. I care Y/N. Even if you can't see it, and damnit I didn't do a very good job at showing you, but I care."

You don't think you've ever seen Jungkook this vulnerable. He looked like he was about to cry, honestly. That softened your heart. You knew you shouldn't have been mad at him.

If you're being truthful with yourself, you too could also blame yourself. The phone goes both ways. Conversations involve two people. Yeah, him being better friends with Jimin, may have been the start of your divide, but you could have easily reached out too.

You could have asked Jimin to take you with to see him. You could have asked Jimin for his number, so you could send him a 'How are you?' text every once in a while. But you didn't.

And neither did he. But at least he asked about you. Did you ever ask your brother about Jungkook? No. Not once. You'd ask if they had a good time as they hung out, but nothing about him directly.

You were just as big of an idiot as he was, in all of this. Maybe even more so.

"Kook... I'm sorry." You couldn't even look at him right now. "I didn't know all of that. I'm sure you had your reasons for distancing, and that's none of my business, but I'm just as much to blame. I didn't try for our friendship just as much, actually... even less than you. At least, you asked about me, right?" You lightly chuckled.

Finally, turning his head to you as you were at a stop light, he gave you a soft smile. "Don't blame yourself. This was all me."

It wasn't. It truly wasn't.

"Kook, I think this should just be water under the bridge. If you're not mad, I'm not mad."

With an even bigger bunny smile, "I could never be mad at you."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Taglist: @darkuni63

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graceandlace1 · 1 year

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Holiday Styling with Grace and Lace

Cozy knits, attractive patterns, and fresh materials have all been abundant this season, so you may feel as beautiful as you look! To provide you with a variety of alternatives for preparing for the Christmas season, our design team worked particularly hard. Here are some of my personal favourites to provide you style inspiration this Christmas season, whether you're rushing out for last-minute shopping trips, kids' school celebrations, or preparing for special events and church services.

Graphic tees with Grace and Lace

The greatest in female fashion is brought to you by Grace and Lace. You will always appear fashionable thanks to our selection of graphic t-shirts. Keep cool this summer with our collection of graphic t-shirts and tank tops, or cosy up with one of our plush sweaters, hoodies, or sweatshirts.

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each day pumpkin graphic tshirt from the past

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The Vintage Any Day Pumpkin Graphic Tee allows you to savour the entire pumpkin spice mood of the season with a specially created vintage graphic!

Reasons to adore it

The pumpkin patch image on our "Any Day" shirt made of soft 100% cotton has a vintage feel.

Side slits in the hemline and a combination scoop and classic neckline

An excellent choice for celebrating everything fall! This is one adaptable tee you'll seek for time and time again. Wear it alone with joggers or layer it with cardis and jackets.

Examine its fit.

For more cosy graphic shirts, add to basket!

The Vintage Any Day Pumpkin Graphic Tee allows you to savour the entire pumpkin spice mood of the season with a specially created vintage graphic!

Reasons to adore it

The pumpkin patch image on our "Any Day" shirt made of soft 100% cotton has a vintage feel.

Side slits in the hemline and a combination scoop and classic neckline

An excellent choice for celebrating everything fall! This is one adaptable tee you'll seek for time and time again. Wear it alone with joggers or layer it with cardis and jackets.

She exudes charm while wearing a graphic print tunic top that has been worn and cleaned.

The Washed and Worn Graphic Print Tunic Tee is simply comfortable and makes a cute statement, making it a staple for this season and beyond!

Reasons to adore it

3 graphic graphics on a cotton long shirt with a relaxed style (custom printed locally)

Our Washed and Worn line's exceptional softness and worn-in feel come from our distinctive wash method.

A flattering fit is provided with a traditional neckline.

perfect for layering over leggings for more coverage or wearing with denim.

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It has a limited supply and delivery can take longer than usual.

Tee, you've got this.

What day should you dress comfortably in a t-shirt? Every day! The Any Day Tee puts you at ease and fashionable whether you're out or just relaxing at home!

Reasons to adore it

100% soft cotton t-shirt

Graphic designs in a vintage or current style are perfect for daily wear.

Side slits in the hemline and a combination scoop/classic neckline

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jiminstonic · 2 years

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In The Night | jjk

pairing: stalker!jungkook + fem/afab!reader

word count: 2.3k

genre: smut, yandere, thriller

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, stalking, male masturbation, female masturbation, obsessive thoughts, yandere behavior, mention of filming without consent, vibrator use, body worship, breaking and entering, use of “princess”, it’s hot

— synopsis: When you find out that the shy tech guy has been watching you at night, you take matters into your own hands.

Eleven P.M. on the dot. It’s almost time. Excitement bubbles in your stomach, nerves flowing from your toes to your fingertips. Immediately, you open your window just enough to leave a crack. Then, you sift through your dresser for something just right. Walking around in a bra and panties would be too obvious—you have to keep up the clueless act as best you can, but still be a tease.

So, you fish out an old shirt you had accidentally made into a too-short-to-wear-to-the-grocery-store crop tee, the graphic on the front more than halfway cut off. It’s perfect to show off the expanse of your stomach, which is key for what’s to come. Perhaps you can go with only that and panties—no doubt it would be game-changing, but you still grab for your heart pattern sleep shorts that do wonders for the shape of your ass. It’s perfect, and just in time.

Eleven-Ten P.M. He’s here. Adrenaline pumps through you at a speed incomprehensible, putting your heart to the test as you can practically hear it pounding. Remember, play it cool. You’re not supposed to know that he’s watching.

Yes, the hot, nerdy tech guy that seems to lose all collectiveness around you watches you through your window every single night. And honestly, you love it.

Of course, you’ve had the inner monologue about how it’s supposed to creep you the fuck out and that you probably should have called the cops by now. But that just wouldn’t be any fun, now would it?

You remember the first time you’d noticed him watching you. He was only on the rooftop of the neighboring building, sitting with his tripod set just over the cement railing, pointed straight into your bedroom window. That was about three weeks ago. Now, though…he’s gotten bold. Instead of being atop the next building, he now sits right outside your window on the fire escape, just out of sight. Although, he tends to become sloppy with staying hidden when he can’t keep from stroking himself faster and faster at the sight of you.

The feeling of eyes on you is unbelievably strong, especially now that you know his routine. It only fuels your actions further.

Laying flat on your bed with your right leg propped, you pretend to channel surf on your tv that’s mounted high on the wall facing your bed. As your left hand is occupied with pressing buttons on the remote, your right is lightly tracing over your stomach and fidgeting with your naval ring every now and then. Starting at your sternum, the tips of your fingers ghost over your skin, all the way down the waistband of your shorts, and back up; never breaking pace. You can practically feel his eyes following every movement, and you’re positive you’re not the only one wishing it was his fingers on you instead.

Audibly sighing, you feign boredom and act as if you couldn’t find a channel to settle on, so you just power off the television and toss the remote to the side. This is where the fun truly begins.

You look down at your stomach, pretending to ponder, as you rest your hand against your skin. Slowly, you begin to move your hand further down your stomach and under the waistband of your shorts. From there, you press your fingers slightly onto your mound where your clit lies right between your folds, feeling the small phantom of sensation. It’s nothing much at all, but you want to take this slow to leave him anticipating your every move.

Your chest caves with an exhale, then making sure to exaggerate your inhale and puff out your chest, nipples more than visible under the thin material of your crop top. This has to be driving him absolutely insane.

And is it ever. Jungkook’s back is pressed against the brick wall of the building, his neck twisted almost painfully in order to see through your bedroom window that he’s sitting right next to. His legs are folded against his chest in an effort to stay concealed from view, mainly from you since he could give a shit less if anyone else sees him. He only cares about you. He only cares about what you think. You are the only one he craves. And goddamn do you look ravenous right now.

He could almost feel your skin under his fingertips with everything you’re putting on display. The way your breasts move up and down with your deep breaths, he could almost hear your gasps. If he tries hard enough, he just actually might be able to. It was impossible to miss the small opening in your window. His eyes are glued to where your fingers are circling in between your thighs. It’s almost as if you want him to see with the way your leg closest to the window is lying flat on your bed, giving him a front row seat of your clothed cunt.

The erection between his legs pushes against his dark skinny jeans, something he fears may become painful if he gets any harder. And with the direction you’re taking things, he most likely will. So, to relieve some of the pressure, he unbuttons his jeans and lets the zipper slowly slide down on its own. Afraid to miss something, he turns back to look at you, only to see that you’re practically mimicking his actions by sliding down your own shorts. The sight of it moving gracefully down your legs only to fly off of your ankle and onto the floor makes him wish more than anything that he were the one undressing you.

For now, he’s more than grateful to be able to see you like this, in one of your most vulnerable states, thinking that you’re all alone. The tip of his dick peeks out from his waistband, precum smearing onto his stomach as he watches you slowly grinding on your own fingers. You’re teasing him, you know you are. It’s the whole reason why you’re still rubbing yourself over your underwear and not directly on your pussy. That and the thin cloth gliding against your clit coupled with the feeling of a certain pair of dark eyes on you is electrifying. You’re starting to have a hard time not losing yourself in what you started.

Fuck it, you think as you twist around and reach to your bedside table where your pink vibrator lies. It’s a few inches long and not exactly thick, but the vibration does wonders every time. Once it’s in your grasp, you make yourself comfortable over the duvet with your back propped up against the pillows. It takes everything in you not to look out your window and meet his eyes as you slide your underwear down your legs. He still thinks I don’t know he’s watching, I have to keep going. With your underwear at the foot of your bed, you bend your legs and let your knees fall to either side of you, giving him a perfect view of your glistening pussy with your legs wide open. You wonder if he knows that you’re this way for him—because of him.

At this point, Jungkook’s cock is already out and in his hand. His pumps are slow while he simultaneously tries to focus on you and relieving his problem that you caused. His eyes are glued to your form, heart practically jumping out of his chest when he watches as you grab the vibrator. He’s torturing himself with the lagging movements of his hand, fingers only gently brushing that sweet spot just under his tip. It’s all driving him crazy. You’re driving him crazy. It’s as if he’s in a lustful frenzy with the way his chest rises and falls rapidly with deep breaths. His body is on fire.

And then, your legs open like the doors to heaven. His breath hitches, dick throbbing violently in his tight grip as a drop of precum trickles over his thumb and down his length. His pupils are blown wide as he looks on at your glistening, glowing cunt for the very first time. God has he dreamt of this. And you’ve beyond exceeded his expectations. Of course, he knew your pussy would be pretty, how could it not when it’s on your ethereal body? But this…it’s perfect. His mouth waters as he could practically feel your clit on his tongue, the taste of your juices so sweet and so you. Fuck, he thinks as he tears his gaze away to look down at his length, having to harshly pinch his tip in order to not cum just from looking at you. He wants to feel good with you, and he’ll be damned if anything’s going to ruin it.

Once he turns his head toward you again, you’re already gliding the pink vibrator against your bare clit. With that, he resumes his strokes on his now insanely hard dick. As his hand goes up, he closes it around his tip and twists lightly, only to go back down, smearing precum over his length. The sight of you watching where the toy makes contact with your pussy does so many things to him, he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it.

That is until your jaw drops slightly—lips parting with a gasp he wishes to hear—as you slowly push the vibrator into your cunt. He can’t help but jerk himself with a now bruising pace. You’re practically giving him a visual aid of what it’d be like to fuck you. Him inside of you. He’s toyed with the fantasy often…very often, but always dismissed it thinking that he doesn’t deserve to feel the soft walls of your pussy around him. Yet, there isn’t anyone else that deserves to either.

You’re definitely enjoying this more than you’d originally thought. Originally, you weren’t even going to go this far, but now you’re in too deep, and you have to see it through. You’re also not complaining. You don’t even have the breath to do so when all that passes your lips are moans and groans from the euphoria flowing from your core. A thin layer of sweat coats your chest, giving you the perfect opportunity to lift your top, revealing your breasts. Your nipples immediately harden from being exposed to the cool air of your room, only enhancing the feeling when your fingertips smooth over one of them. With one hand on your cunt and the other toying with your nipple, a jolt of pleasure shoots through your body as your back arches and your head falls back onto the pillows. The otherwise quiet room is filled with your noises and all you can think about is him and what he might be doing to himself right now. You must be sick to be getting off to your stalker, but you don’t want any medicine either. It’s the best high you’ve had in a long while.

Your walls clamp around the vibrator as you move it in and out of you at a steady pace. For the first time you can feel the vibrations on your clit from inside, and it’s ecstasy. You’ve tried it before, yet your attempts were futile. It has to be him doing this to you; the effect he has on you is dangerous, but it feels so good.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is having a hard time not reaching his climax before you. He feels blissed out, both from his own motions and just looking on at your form. If he could only replace the hand on your breast with his, and the vibrator with his cock—oh, he’d stretch you out so fucking good, he just knows it. And while he hadn’t heard your moans before, he sure as hell hears them now. Your sweet, pleasured noises make his head spin and he is absolutely feral. The things he would do, the people he’d kill to put his mouth on your skin, on your pussy, on your lips. Oh, those lips of yours would look so pretty around his cock.

Suddenly, he sees your chest heaving, eyebrows furrowing, and mouth opening wider as you move the vibrator in and out of you at a faster rate. He mimics the pace on his own length, the feeling getting stronger and stronger and he knows—you’re about to cum together. He doesn’t stop, just as you don’t, and his eyes are practically superglued to your pussy, watching it suck in the toy every time you pull it out. Shit, you must be so tight and—

Simultaneously, your body jolts right as cum shoots from his tip. You ride out your orgasm on the vibrator as Jungkook milks his throbbing cock with gasps in the night. In his mind, all of his cum is shooting deep into you, so much so that it would leak from your cunt. It’s much better than the reality, which is all of it landing onto the fire escape and even over the railing.

You push the vibrator into you one last time before turning it off and pulling it out. Your walls spasm at the friction, extremely overstimulated, and you hiss at the feeling.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the same thought runs through both of your minds: That’s the hardest I’ve ever came.

And you’re satisfied with yourself, confident that you put on a good show for him. And who knows, you might even do it again sometime. You know for sure he’ll be back after tonight.

But right now, you’re spent, completely exhausted to the point that you don’t even bother putting your clothes back on and just pull the duvet over your form. With the last bit of energy, you reach over and pull the string to your lamp, blanketing your room in darkness as your heavy eyelids fall to a close.

You’re just on the edge of slumber when you feel a dip in your bed. Finally, your cat Minx came to lay with you for the rest of the night. With that thought, you let yourself fall asleep once again.

Until you remember that Minx never jumps on your bed by herself.

Your eyes snap open to find Jungkook’s dark and bulky form crawling onto your bed, now much closer as his face is mere inches from yours. The smirk on his lips is sinister, striking fear into your soul.

“You didn’t think we were done just yet, did you, princess?”

a/n: this is my first time writing smut so go easy on me pls! this was originally in my drafts forever and i finally got the will to finish it, and im so glad i did. i hadn’t initially planned on releasing it this early, but decided to for the follower milestone because that is more than i could ever ask for. the support is amazing and im so thankful <333

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